Hello, My Name is Eric Cartman
by SakuraHeeroWing
Summary: Slash, centered on Cartman. Full summary inside. Lots of OOCness. Will progress with the next few chapters, I promise.


Rated: R for language, violence, and many, many more R rated things. P

Warnings: Violence, thoughts of suicide, SLASH! and much, much angst.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of the characters. At all. Never. ...Nope. Still don't own 'em.

Summary: At fifteen, Eric Cartman ran away from home after an incident with Kyle and the gang. Alone and wilting, he's found for five boys a year or two older than himself, but wiser beyond their years, who help him recover and change how he defines himself. Now, at sixteen going on seventeen, he returns as a changed young man, and struggles with having to prove himself to the people he once called his friends, an entirely new identity, dealing with illness, death, and newfound love.

Original Characters:

Zero

Solo

Duo

Trae

Quatra

Many more to come, I'm sure.

Hello, My Name is Eric Cartman

Every once in a while, during our ride home, mom would turn her head, smile, and shoot me her soft, glassy-eyed, "I'm-so-proud-of-you" look. I hadn't seen her in almost a year and a half and had expected her to be angry with me, silent, and glaring, but I knew I would be fooling myself if I said mom was ever capable of being anything more than understanding and compassionate. My hands tightened around the knapsack on my lap, and my head turned to gaze at the window.

Fields of snow. That's all there was. Fields of snow, and maybe a dying sapling here and there. For some reason, the sight saddened me. This was what my return was going to be like? This was all I would see? Cold, dirty snow and dying trees? Nothing was different. This was the way it always had been, and that scared me to no ends. I'd been away from South Park for a year and a half, in hopesof finding myself, changing myself. I'd put every bit of energy I had into making sure I reached that goal, and in the end it had left me exhausted, but satisfied. Now, as mom drove us down the road that led to my home town, a bubble of dread and anxiousness rose from my stomach to my throat. My gut instinct told me that the only thing that had changed about South Park was me, and that scared me.

That scared me shitless.

I leaned my head against the cold window and allowed myself to zone, to fall into a pit of mind-numbing blackness. My nerves jumped when mom's fingers brushed the top of my hand, and we pulled to a stop at the side of the road. We weren't far from reaching home. I turned to face her, confused and frowning, but waiting patiently for her to speak. She was smiling at me; her eyes were sad. Her hand pressed to my cheek.

She was warm, just like I remembered her.

"Sweetie, are you sure about this?" I blinked, arching a brow, placing my hand on top of hers.

"Sure about what?"

She glanced to the bag on my lap, shook her head, and cupped her hand with my own. I noticed the lines beneath her eyes, at the corners of her mouth, and realized that in a year, my mother had gone from looking like a young, humble mother to a worn and tired mother. My heart ached, knowing that I had caused this, but before I could open my mouth to apologize, she spoke.

"Eric, you wouldn't have run away if there wasn't something you felt uncomfortable about. I'm..." she paused and frowned, obviously battling with her inner self, "...I'm willing to take you back to wherever you need to be if you aren't ready to come home. You've...taken care of yourself, and done far better than I ever imagined you could, and I have faith that you can continue to do that, so long as you need to."

I smiled a genuine, jaw cramping smile and leaned forward to wrap my arms around my soft spoken mother, bringing her close and resting my chin on her shoulder. She smelled like chocolate chip cookies and warm pot pies, two of my many favorite foods. Up until that moment, I hadn't realized how much I had really missed her.

"Mom, I wouldn't have called you if I wasn't ready to come back. Look, I...I've realized a lot of things about myself while I've been gone. I've found everything I've needed to find. I feel..almost whole, and I've never felt that way before," I leaned my head to hers, enough so that I could whisper into her ear, "But I'm ready now, _mam_. I've missed you so much..."

There was a heavy moment of silence, my mother holding me as if I were going to vanish any second, until I felt wetness against the side of my neck. Then came the tell-tale shaking of shoulders, the sniffling, the sobbing, and her voice, so much softer and gentler than my own.

"My little Blueberry Muffin, I love you _so_ much."

After we had pulled into the driveway, mom and I shared the burden of carrying my luggage. I'd only taken one small backpack with me, not even expecting to survive on my own for longer than three days, but now, as we walked up the stairs and into our house, we found ourselves carrying two bags each.

The air smelled fresh and cold, the way it does after a hard rain.

Did I ever mention I love the rain?

Mom handed the other two bags to me as I stood in front of my bedroom door and kissed my forehead, murmuring something about dinner, and making her way to the kitchen, humming all the way. I smiled after her, noting how happy she was, and for a few moments beating myself up for having caused her so much pain. I shook my head, shoving my door open finally, and setting my bags down on the floor with a groan.

I kicked off my shoes and used my toes to tug my socks off, wriggling them from my feet until they lay flat on top of one another. Finally settled and comfortable, I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling quietly. I felt like an entirely new person. I hadn't screeched in a year, my violent tendencies had calmed to an extent...

_Eric Cartman, who the fuck are you?_

I brought my hand down to my stomach, rubbing it down slowly, feeling it out. My eyes fluttered closed as I visualized myself and what I looked like. I no longer had a sick, flabby gut. Although I know I wasn't ever going to be as skinny as I remembered Kenny to be, or as built and lean as I knew Stan was, knowing that the hardness in my abs no longer meant I had overstuffed myself was a feeling far more rewarding than any I'd ever felt. With my eyes closed, I could see myself standing beside all the other boys in South Park and knew that with this transformation, I was no longer Cartman the Fatass. Now, I was Eric Cartman, just like every other boymy age.

My heart did a flip. I pushed myself off the bed and hurried to stand in front of the full length mirror to the far right of my room. I examined myself closely, feeling strangely out of place, but euphoric at the same time. I'd been right; my stomach still wasn't washboard flat, and I still had love handles hanging off my sides, but they were small, and the pudginess of my belly insignificant. If I looked closely, I could see the beginnings of muscles.

_/"So it's agreed then. You let us help you mold yourself into the man you want to be with **no** arguments. You do exactly as we tell you to do, and promise to trust us entirely for the next thirteen months."_

_"...Yeah."_

_Cartman shifted uncomfortably, frowning, and glaring at the five boys sitting on the ground in front of him. He was cursing himself in his head for having agreed to this stupid idea, and even more sofor letting himself pull down his walls and allow another human being to dictate more than a year of his life and his way of living. His gaze fell on the spiky blond-haired boy directly across from him. His eyes, pale blue and mesmerizing, sparkled with devilish mirth, leaving him unsettled and admittedly, a bit frightened. The other boys took to grinning to themselves. Frustrated, intimidated, the fat boy hollered, his voice nasal and sharp._

_"Ay! Quit fucking staring at me like that!"_

_To the left of the blond, the tanned, tired-eyed, chocolate haired boy scooted closer to the chubby fifteen year old and leaned his face only five inches or so away from his, smirking. His hands cupped Cartman's cheeks and forced his head back, humming to himself while he "inspected" their new project. Cartman, meanwhile, reddened with embarrassment._

_"I dunno, Zero. It looks like we have our work cut out for us **this** time..." The blond, Zero, released a loud, boyish laugh, crawling his way over to the two and poking a few fingers against Cartman's stomach._

_"You're right. This one's gonna be tough!" _

_Having had enough, Cartman shoved them away from him and pushed himself back with his heels until he was leaning against the wall._

_"Shut the fuck up,you fags!"_

_But the insult, for the first time in his life, was only half-hearted. He had to fight to keep a straight face while the other boys laughed._

_Cartman had never wanted to laugh at his own expense before. /_

It worked, you guys, I thought to myself. I flexedmy arms and almost jumped with joy at being able to see and feel muscle there, too.

My hand reached out and traced the contours of the reflection of my face. There was a tiny bit of a second chin, but only if you looked real close. I guided my finger down the shape of my jaw, slightly rounded but chiseled now, down along slightly pouty lips, up a straight nose, and around the shape of my eyes.

It took me a few minutes to realize why I was so surprised.

I hadn't been allowed to look into a mirror for a little over a year.

I leaned forward and pressed my body against the cool glass, shutting my eyes and breathing against it shakily. My mind was flooding itself with memories of grammar school, and the year before I'd run away. Sophomore year.

_/ "What the fuck is your problem, Cartman! Can't you just shut the fuck up for once?"_

_"Don't tell **me** to shut up you Jewish son of a bitch!"_

_"Hey! Stop it, Cartman! Can't you see Kyle's had enough of your bullshit? We don't want it anymore!" Stan's eyes burned into his skin. He felt oddly wounded. Sure, the others had always turned against him when it came to these fights between himself and Kyle. They'd always taken the Jew's side, but now there was real tension in the air._

_Something inside of him screamed to shut up. But he wouldn't._

_"It's not my fucking fault Kyle's such a Jewish asswipe that he can't even throw a fucking ball!" His voice grew shrill, sniffling to hold back mucus threatening to run from his nose. It was too cold. Everything was too cold today._

_"You're just fucking jealous of him! Kyle's a good guy with a good heart, that gets good grades, with a good family that makes good money and has a good mom that doesn't go around sleeping with everyone's husband and wife whenever they get the fucking chance!" _

_His blood boiled and he felt himself growing cold. His eyes stung._

_Eric Cartman didn't cry in front of other people._

_"We're so sick of your hypocritical shit, Cartman! All you do is bitch and moan and eat and sleep, and insult us, when you're the fucked up, fat piece of shit nobody likes and who's always depended on us to be his friends because nobody else would even come close to wanting to call you their friend!"_

_Eric Cartman didn't cry in front of other people, but the tears blurred his vision as they tinkered at the edge of his lower lids. By now, his voice was a loud screech._

_"Fuck you, you mother fucking fags! I hate you all! You're all dumbasses that deserve to die! Especially that Jesus-Killing pile of donkey shit with the green hat! You're all fucking--" _

_He hadn't seen Kyle glaring and picking up the football. He wasn't prepared for a physical attack. It didn't happen often when they would get into fights like that. Usually, everything was verbal and far more effective than a punch was, so he fell to the ground when the ball collided with his cheek. He lay there for seconds, stunned, as blood dripped out of his nostrils and onto the white snow below, his mouth rounded to a slight "O". _

_"You're the one we've always wished would die. You should have been living Kenny's fate all those years. You should have been the one dying every night." Kyle stood above him, glaring, and looking about ready to spit on him. Cartman looked to Kenny, who'd been standing off to the side for the entire time, just watching with sad eyes._

_He'd always been closest to Kenny, but not close enough._

_Without another word, the boys turned and walked off the opposite direction, Stan's ball in hand, and never once looking back._

_They'd left him in the cold snow, fat, with tears of pain trickling down his pig-pink cheeks._

_It was the first time he'd ever really felt alone. /_

The memories made my chest tighten and ache. Had they even cared when they'd heard I'd gone missing? I doubted it highly, past experience giving me the gut feeling that they had been much happier without me.

I pushed off of the mirror and ran my fingers through my dark brown hair. It was shaggy, unkempt, wild, and I wondered if I should cut it.

_No. The old, fat Cartman had never let his hair grow._

Turning away from my reflection, I crawled back onto my bed and nestled my arms beneath my single pillow. It smelled like cheesy poofs and sweat. Mom hadn't moved anything from the way I'd left it. I smiled, reminding myself to buy her an extra special gift for her birthday next year. Downstairs, I could hear her banging pots and pans, crying, and laughing on the phone. I had a feeling she was preparing a meal fit for a king andI didn't have the heart to tell her I'd cut back on eating any more than one serving. I could make out her voice, faint, excited, and very much mom.

'Yes, yes! Uh huh, he called me himself...was so worried about him...'as lost _so_ much weight...'

Iwondered who she was talking to. No one from South Park,I was sure. I'd made her promise not to tell anyone thatI was back, wanting to transition back into South Park life slowly and not up for having people over and having to answer personal questions as all that bullshit. Then again, maybe I was thinking too highly of myself. Maybe nobody would even bother to come and ask.

'_No_! At least a hundred pounds!' Mom's voice shrieked.

She was probably talking to Aunt Marilyn. I could imagine her response:

'What? Our fat little Eric?'

Sighing and exhausted, I curled my legs to my stomach, hugging the pilling to myself, drifting off into sleep.

I tried not to think about school no more than a week away.

End chapter one!

I know it's kinda slow, but I'm trying to give you guys an idea of what his change in personality is like. I know it's completely out of character, but he's supposed to be. Don't worry, he'll swear and kick and rave a little more eventually. But don't expect him to revert back to his old, mama's boy self again. Hopefully I'll get enough good reviews to want to continue the story.

The slash will be coming...just not right away, and, as for his memories, they're going to play a huge part in this story and really showing how he transitioned from the old Cartman to the new Eric Cartman. :) I have big plans for this story.

You'll be seeing more of the five originals in the next few chapters..which will..hopefully..but a lot longer than this one.


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